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feared o’ th’ gamekeepers,’ said she: ‘that’s all ‘at I think
on. If th’ young gentlemen had been at home, I should a’
thought they’d been setting their dogs at her, an’ worried
her, poor thing, as they did MANY a poor thing’s cat; but I
haven’t that to be feared on now.’ Nancy’s eyes were better,
but still far from well: she had been trying to make a Sun-
day shirt for her son, but told me she could only bear to do a
little bit at it now and then, so that it progressed but slowly,
though the poor lad wanted it sadly. So I proposed to help
her a little, after I had read to her, for I had plenty of time
that evening, and need not return till dusk. She thankfully
accepted the offer. ‘An’ you’ll be a bit o’ company for me too,
Miss,’ said she; ‘I like as I feel lonesome without my cat.’ But
when I had finished reading, and done the half of a seam,
with Nancy’s capacious brass thimble fitted on to my finger
by means of a roll of paper, I was disturbed by the entrance
of Mr. Weston, with the identical cat in his arms. I now saw
that he could smile, and very pleasantly too.
‘I’ve done you a piece of good service, Nancy,’ he began:
then seeing me, he acknowledged my presence by a slight
bow. I should have been invisible to Hatfield, or any other
gentleman of those parts. ‘I’ve delivered your cat,’ he con-
tinued, ‘from the hands, or rather the gun, of Mr. Murray’s
gamekeeper.’
‘God bless you, sir!’ cried the grateful old woman, ready
to weep for joy as she received her favourite from his arms.
‘Take care of it,’ said he, ‘and don’t let it go near the rab-
bitwarren, for the gamekeeper swears he’ll shoot it if he sees
it there again: he would have done so to-day, if I had not

130 Agnes Grey